


drunk, love

by lameillusions



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: F/M, Heartbreak, Pining, Post-Book 2: The Wicked King, drunk jude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27023842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lameillusions/pseuds/lameillusions
Summary: In which, Jude learns why she will never drink again.
Relationships: Jude Duarte & Vivienne Duarte, Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 4
Kudos: 84





	drunk, love

**Author's Note:**

> My hand slipped and I did something. I hope you guys like it.

Jude Duarte-Greenbriar, High Queen of Elfhame, lays sprawled across the couch, clothed in 48-hour-old pajamas, hand rummaging around inside a party size bag of Flamin’ Hot Doritos, watching a surprisingly heated cooking competition. 

_ How the mighty have fallen.  _

Sometimes, despite her best efforts, her mind would fly all the way back to Faerie, to the High King and her husband. Cardan. How he must be delighting in his newfound freedom. How he must be boasting about deceiving her. How he must be partying himself to death. She doesn’t know why she tortures herself so, but her mind wanders again and her heart gives a painful squeeze. It’s resentment, she tells herself. At Cardan, for making her forget just who he is and  _ feel _ . But mostly, at herself, for being stupid enough to let him. Look where that had gotten her. Exiled and powerless. A bird with clipped wings. 

She’s brought back by the abrupt shutdown of the television. To her left, Vivi gets up from the armchair she had been commandeering, in a state similar to her younger sister’s. She is experiencing heartbreak herself, what with Heather breaking their relationship off, and moving out. Jude turns unimpressed eyes on her. 

“I was watching that,” She says around a mouthful of chips. 

The words fly over Vivi’s head. Instead of a reply, she throws the remote unceremoniously on the coffee table and claps her hands. “This is enough,” She declares solemnly. “We have moped around for days and it’s clearly not doing us any good.”

Jude stares wordlessly at her sister. She will take any form of entertainment, even a sweeping speech from Vivi about how they need to move on with their lives and make the best of a shitty situation. 

“...and make the best of a shitty situation,” Vivi places her hands on her hips, a plastic smile that hides absolutely nothing of her hurt on her face. “That’s why we’re going out tonight. And I don’t want any protests. You are coming, Jude Duarte, and that is final.”

_ Jude Duarte-Greenbriar.  _ A small, stupid voice Jude imagines squashing beneath her boot protests far too loudly. 

“What about Oak?” She says, instead. 

Vivi heaves an exasperated sigh. “It’s Friday, Jude. He’s sleeping over at that Mason kid’s house tonight. Remember? He’s been talking nonstop about it.”

“Today is Friday?”

“Okay, that’s it. Get up,” She steals the bag of chips from her hands and hoists her up on her ass. 

Stars flash across Jude’s vision and she shakes her head to get rid of them. Vivi might be onto something here, she will concede that much. “I’m up. I’m up.

“Good. Go take a shower. You stink.”

Jude huffs. “Are you sure it’s not yourself you’re smelling?”

“If you don’t get out of my sight in three seconds, I’m making you clean up this mess,” Vivi sweeps a hand across the living room, at the mounds of empty chip bags, chocolate wrappers, and ice cream containers. It’s enough to make Jude yeet herself into the bathroom and slam the door loudly behind her. 

The sight that greets her in the mirror is most disconcerting. Her hair hangs limply down her back, knotted and dirty, framing her drawn face. Bags decorate her under-eye area, stark against her now blanched skin. Jude hasn’t looked this bad even when she was ingesting poison daily. It seems heartbreak looks even worse than mithridatism on her. 

She turns sharply on her heel, making for the shower. Beauty is not the advantage Jude has been granted and it’s not an advantage she needs. 

Vivi rushes past her as soon as Jude steps out, steam exiting the room alongside her. The hot shower had been just the thing she needed to jar her out of the sluggish state she’d fallen into. 

“I’ve laid out your outfit on the bed. Get dressed and do your makeup,” She hears her sister call out from behind the closed door. “And don’t think about arguing.”

Jude rolls her eyes at that, sticking her tongue out at the door. Nonetheless, she trudges into the room, dabbing her wet hair with the Hello Kitty towel Vivi had assigned her but stops dead when she spies the amount of leather laid out on the bed.  _ That _ passes for an outfit? Nope, no way. 

“Vivi,” Her voice rings out, the disbelieving note crystal clear. “What in God’s name is this?”

Her only answer is the sound of the shower. 

“I’m going to throw it out the window.”

She faintly hears her sister’s reply. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m  _ not _ putting that on,” Jude knows she’s whining and she doesn’t care. 

“Instead of thanking me for scrounging up a super hot outfit for you,” Vivi strides into the room, cat-eyes twinkling in mischief. “You whine. Just put it on.”

She just glares at her sister, arms crossed over her chest, the perfect picture of petulance. 

“I could always give you one of my dresses. You’d have so much fun trying to sneak a weapon in dressed like that.”

It’s official; Jude hates it here. “Give me that,” She snarls, snatching the garments from Vivi’s hand. Her sister’s triumphant smile doesn’t escape her notice. 

It’s not bad per se, but it’s so unlike what Jude is used to wearing, it throws her for a loop. The black leather jumpsuit fits her like a second skin, doing wonders for her body and the sweetheart neckline highlights her chest area. She studies her reflection in the hallway mirror with a critical eye. Where, exactly, is she going to hide any sort of weapon in this? Only when she raises her arms above her head, her right side to the reflective surface, does she get an idea. Pushing the top of the jumpsuit down to her waist, Jude fixes her daggers’ scabbards to her sides. The hilts are hidden by her arms and, once pulled up again, the jumpsuit conceals any other sign of the weapons’ presence. That should do. 

“Hey, Jude,” Vivi approaches with a pair of heels in hand. She looks up then lets out a sharp whistle as she takes her in. “I am too good. You look amazing, little sis. You’re wearing these, but first, let me do your hair. And you still haven’t gotten started on your makeup. Of course.”

She sets the shoes down and ushers Jude back in her room and down in front of the vanity. “You know, I want to see you with straightened hair for once. What do you think?”

“I think you’re going to do it either way,” Jude drawls out, as Vivi smooths a hand down her blood-red velvet skirt and fixes her black crop top, nodding with a little smirk. 

“How well you know me, darling,” She replies, plugging in the hairdryer and getting started with Jude’s hair, completely missing the way her face falls at the words. Words that sound so much like something Cardan’d say. She squeezes her eyes shut and tries to clear her head. Cardan banished her. Cardan played her. 

She reaches for the makeup, trying to steady her shaking hand. She will not think about her treacherous husband. She will  _ not _ . 

Vivi makes quick work of her hair and Jude finishes her face, before relinquishing her place to her sister to do her makeup, too. At the very least, she learned something during her exile. Thank YouTube. They emerge from the house, ready for the night out they deserve, as Vivi keeps insisting enthusiastically. 

The cab drops them off in front of a nightclub, the letters spelling Lollipop casting neon lights across the incredibly long line of people waiting to enter. Jude suppresses a groan. She is not about to wait three hours to enter the dimly lit bowels of a building full of sweaty drunk horny people. She would much rather be meeting up with Bryern for some work. It seems Vivi senses the direction her thoughts are headed and, looping their arms together with that little smirk that makes her look more like a predator, she struts her up to the front of the line, past sneering dolled up women and men, straight to the bouncer. The buff man crosses his arms, muscles bulging, and chest puffing, but Jude can see him hesitating, calculating his next step. Apparently, his head is not far enough up his ass to make him impervious to the way Vivi’s smirk warns the observant ones not to fuck with her.

“Let us in,” She says, her voice sweet with the weight of the glamour. The bouncer obeys wordlessly and Vivi whisks Jude past him and into the dark, loud interior. 

They remain linked at the elbow, pushing past the dancing drunk throng of people and towards the bar. Jude hopes the alcohol will give her a reprieve from the jumbled mess of her thoughts, that she will spend more than two minutes at a time without thinking about Cardan. They claim two stools and flag the bartender. 

“I’ll have the strongest drink in store,” Jude says, flashing the fake ID at the man’s raised eyebrows. 

“Make that two,” Vivi winks at her sister. “We’re getting sloshed tonight.”

The bartender whips up their drinks quickly and sets them down before them. Jude wraps her hand around the cool glass and lifts it in the air, mimicking her sister. 

“To heartbreak,” Vivi toasts with a bitter smile, and they both down the amber liquid. The refill comes almost immediately. 

To their left, a large group of people occupies a booth in a sectioned-off area. Boisterous laughs ring out over the bass of the music and even if it couldn’t be any more different, the sight still reminds her of that one party she attended with Locke. Of the crowd gathered around Cardan. Of how he looked at her as—

She downs her drink again and, again, the bartender is there with a much-appreciated refill. The alcohol burns a path down her throat and eases the razor-sharp edge of her pain. Jude hates herself for it. She cannot even bring herself to think about that morning without wanting to cry. Or stab herself in the heart. Or jump off a cliff. How could she be so stupid as to believe him? Cardan Greenbriar had done nothing but fight her at every turn. Be it by pushing her into a river or forcing her to take over ruling, he had fought her. Even kissing him was a fight. How could Jude have fallen for his deceit? Fallen for him?

She downs another glass. She will get drunk enough to not be able to string another coherent thought. Is this why Cardan drank so much?

“Hey Jude,” Vivi lays a hand on her arm, sparing her from the pathetic thoughts in her head. “There’s this blonde over there on your right. She’s been making eyes at me ever since we sat. I’ll go—“

Jude waves a hand dismissively. “Yes, yes.”

“Try to have some fun, okay?”

“No. I only came to get drunk.”

Vivi looks at something over her head, the blonde Jude supposes, and a mischievous smile tugs at her lips. “I’m sure you’ll have company.”

The snort she gives in response is lost in the music, not that it really matters since Vivi has already sashayed over to her rebound and struck up a conversation. Jude looks down at her drink. Ever since her banishment, she’s been feeling aimless, lost. Unseen. Who is she here? Who would she have been had Madoc not killed her parents? There was a time before Jude knew better when she tormented herself with the what-ifs. There was a time when she and Vivi and Taryn dreamed of coming back here and leaving Faerie behind. She is here now, yet she misses Elfhame with a burning intensity she hadn’t thought herself capable of. For most of her life there, Jude had been miserable and had never fit in but she missed it. The magic. The beauty of it. It is her home. 

The world around her vibrates in tandem with the bass of the music, the sensation amplified by the alcohol in her system, and Jude feels the beginnings of a headache. Tomorrow it’s going to be a hellish throb, but tonight, she doesn’t care. It’s just her and her drink. 

Or so she thought. 

“What’s a pretty thing like yourself doing drinking all by her lonesome?” A deep voice comes from her right. 

“None of your business.”

The man claims Vivi’s abandoned seat. “Aw, don’t be like that.”

Jude tears her eyes from the glass in her hand. The man has blond hair, a tanned complexion, and muddy brown eyes. Completely ordinary. Completely human. 

_ So unlike Cardan _ . The voice from earlier remarks haughtily. 

“Dan,” He says with a smile that reveals a dimple in his left cheek and an extended hand. 

Maybe that’s exactly what she needs right now. 

“Jude,” She replies, grasping his hand and shaking it firmly. 

Dan juts his chin towards her drink. “Mind if I keep you company, Jude?”

There’s something about him, she decides, that doesn’t sit well with her. Maybe it’s the calculating glint in his eyes or the crooked way he smirks like he knows something she doesn’t. Any other night, Jude would’ve extracted herself from the situation. Tonight, she’s drunk enough not to. Alcohol dulls pain  _ and _ reason. 

He flags the bartender. “What are we drinking to?” Two drinks arrive. Dan slides her one with a quick movement of his hand and regards her with that smirk. 

She knows she’s… how did Vivi put it? Sloshed. She knows she is sloshed. “To danger,” The word is slurred out but she raises the glass enthusiastically and downs it in a huge gulp. 

“Wanna dance, Jude?” Dan still wears that smirk, triumph written all over his plain features. He doesn’t wait for the answer to his question. Instead, he slides his hand down her arm, entwines their fingers, and pulls her to the dance floor before she has a chance to protest. 

The dance floor is suffocating. Bodies close in on all her sides, the tang of sweat and alcohol strong in the stale air. The flashing lights are enough to distract her intoxicated mind and the loud music carves its beat into her heart, coaxing her blood under its rhythm. Hands snake around her waist, pulling her backside flush against the owner’s body.

Dan’s voice rings in her ear. “Dance for me, Jude.”

She feels sick. Something is not right. She feels sick and she needs to get out of here. Vivi… She needs to find Vivi. Dan’s hands continue their exploring, stretching over the expanse of her stomach and higher, higher into areas she’s only allowed one person to touch. 

“Let me go,” Her mouth forms the words but the sound dissipates under the too-loud music. She struggles against his hold, struggles, and finds her muscles too sluggish to break her free. Dan grinds on her backside. It’s in this moment of panic and powerlessness that she wishes with all her being Cardan were here. Hot tears well in her eyes. “Let me go.” 

He doesn’t relent, his hold on her only slightly tightening. Jude tries to pry his hands off in vain. She realizes now, somewhere in a corner of her drunken mind, that Dan drugged her. That quick flick of his wrist as he slid her her drink.  _ Stupid.  _

“It seems dancing is not your thing, Jude,” He whispers against the shell of her ear, her name a mocking sound. “I’m sure you will be much more fun in the bedroom.”

He starts dragging her past writhing, mindless bodies, a vice grip she cannot dislodge on her wrists. It makes it impossible for her to reach for her daggers and kill this piece of filth. How dare he touch her like that without her consent? Jude had always thought that Elfhame was the most dangerous place for humans. It seems the mortal realm has plenty of dangers lurking in the shadows, too. 

She looks around frantically. She needs a way out. If only she could catch Vivi’s eye. Or find some way to break free of his hold. As it stands, under the influence of alcohol and whatever drug this bastard had slipped in her drink, she is not much help to herself. The search is fruitless, however. Her eyes can only make out blurs under the flashing lights and for the life of her, Jude finds she cannot focus enough to make them out. Even her thoughts seem blurred. The irony isn’t lost on her. Right when she needs her mind to work, it doesn’t. She tugs once again at the grip around her wrists, hoping against hope it would let up, allowing her to blend into the crowd and out of this god-forsaken place. It doesn’t. Dan drags her outside through a backdoor and into a dark alley. 

“Let me go,” It’s only now, in the cool night air that Jude realizes her voice is raw; that she had been screaming the words back inside. 

Dan just pushes her against the brick wall with that same smirk, knocking the breath out of her. He’s upon her in an instant, his mouth on her neck, hands roving manically over her body. Jude feels sick. She tries to push him away from herself, maybe stab him with her daggers, but he catches her hands again and moves his attention further down her neck. There’s a dull ringing in her ears and her head spins but she keeps struggling. No way is she letting this happen. 

He removes his mouth from her skin long enough to croon in her ear. “You’re mine now, Jude.”

No.  _ No.  _ There is only one person who gets to say that and this lowlife isn’t him. 

“Stop.”

Dan freezes, mouth still on her neck. Jude’s eyes fill with tears. She knows that voice. 

“Step away from my wife,” Cardan steps into the alley, face blank but eyes alight in fury. Dan is a puppet under her husband‘s control. “Walk until you can’t no more. You will stop under no circumstances. You will not allow anyone to stop you. You will not speak to anyone. Go."

Dan does as he is told, walking away without a moment of hesitation. Jude knows he will walk himself to death. She doesn’t care. Right now, she only cares about one thing. Her eyes move towards Cardan on their own accord. He steps forward tentatively and stops before her. There’s something in his eyes, an emotion Jude can’t quite decipher as he takes her in. His hand comes to rest on her cheek gently and he swipes his thumb under her eye. It’s only then she becomes aware of the tears streaming down her face. 

“Jude,” Cardan’s voice is just as gentle as his touch and she thinks this is her undoing. She has spent weeks missing him despite trying to convince herself she didn’t, trying to convince herself he had never cared about her. And now he’s here. 

With a sob, Jude stagers forward right into Cardan’s arms. She buries her face in his chest, pressing herself in his comforting presence. He is here and he is holding her and he is pressing a kiss to the crown of her head and drunk, drugged, terrified Jude breaks down right then and there. Every single emotion she’d forcefully pushed and locked away comes rushing to the surface burning sobs in her lungs and drawing tears to her eyes. She cries for everything. Everything that she hasn’t let herself process, from that terrifying confrontation with Valerian to Taryn’s betrayal to her exile, Jude cries. And Cardan holds her steady through it all. 

“Jude,” He whispers against her hair once her crying has subsided. “Jude, why didn’t you come back home?”

If she weren’t so drunk and emotional, Jude thinks she would’ve throttled him at this moment. “You exiled me.” She pulls slightly away from the cocoon of her husband’s arms to glare up at him. Or she would have if tears weren’t racing down her cheeks again. 

Cardan stares down at her, a dumbfounded look on his face. “Didn’t you get my letters?”

“What letters? Cardan, you exiled me.”

His lips twitch and Jude narrows her eyes, now angry enough for the waterworks to stop completely. He’s laughing. He’s laughing  _ at her _ . She is going to kill him. 

“Have I managed to outsmart you, darling wife of mine?” Cardan asks, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. 

Her heart skips a beat, both at his words and his actions but Jude forces herself to remember that she is mad at him.  _ You are mad at him, Jude. He exiled you and you are mad at him no matter how cute he may be.  _

“Don’t you remember, Jude?  _ I hereafter exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world until such time as she is pardoned by the crown. _ ” His eyes bore on her with a startling intensity. 

“Yes, Cardan,” Jude cannot keep the bitterness from her voice as she steps away and wipes her eyes. “I remember.”

“Tell me, then, does my wife, the Queen of Faerie wear a crown?”

She has never felt this stupid before. “Yes.”

“You could have come home whenever you wished, Jude.” Cardan draws closer but his hands remain at his sides. “I told you as much in the letters but it seems our couriers are either incompetent or unable to obey their King’s orders.”

“Cardan?"

“Yes, love?”

Jude rests her forehead against his chest. “I’m too drunk to have this conversation, right now. Not to mention being drugged by that scumbag. Please just take me home.”

“As you command, my love, my wife, my Queen.”


End file.
